


Damn Emily Wilson

by biblionerd07



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Bass takes things very seriously, Gen, Girl Scout!Charlie, Revo Redux Challenge, SO FLUFFY, Silly grown ups, no blackout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Revo Redux: Bass and Miles help Charlie sell Girl Scout Cookies.  As you can imagine, Bass gets a little intense, because they HAVE to beat that damn Emily Wilson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Emily Wilson

Charlie was pouting when Bass rounded the corner into the kitchen. At seven years old, she was a master of the pout, especially when she knew it would help her get her way, the way it always did with her favorite (albeit only) uncles.

“Uh-oh.” Bass shucked a hand under her chin. “What’s with the storm clouds?”

“Emily Wilson’s gonna win.” Charlie said with a deep frown.

“Win what?”

“She’s gonna sell the most cookies. And she’s gonna get a pool party and she already told me she wasn’t gonna invite me.”

Bass was frowning now, too. That damn Emily Wilson sounded like a little bitch. “How many cookies do you have to sell for the pool party?” He asked.

“You just have to sell the most. Her mom takes the form to work and her mom’s the _boss_ and she _fires_ people if they don’t buy cookies from Emily! Mom and Dad won’t take my form to work because they said it’s not _proseshnal_ enough but Emily’s mom does whatever Emily wants.” Charlie wasn’t getting teary, the way most little girls might. She was getting mad. Her little hands were balled into fists and she even went so far as to punch one fist into her other palm. Bass took great care not to crack up laughing at the sight. He crouched down so he was nose to nose with Charlie and kept his face incredibly somber.

“We are going to crush Emily Wilson into dust.” He promised. Charlie cheered.

“Miles.” Bass barked, poking his head into the room the adults were gathered in watching a football game. Miles looked up. Bass had his serious face on and jerked his head so Miles would come talk to him in the hall.

“What’s wrong?” Miles asked immediately. “We get called back to base or something?”

“No. It’s that damn Emily Wilson. We gotta sell more cookies than her.” Bass somehow said this with a completely straight face and Miles gave him a look that said he wasn’t in the mood for one of Bass’s shitty practical jokes.

“Who the hell’s Emily Wilson?”

“She’s a girl in Charlie’s Girl Scout troop. Whoever sells the most cookies gets a pool party and Emily _always_ wins because her mom fucking cheats. And Miles, get this—she already told Charlie she wasn’t invited to the pool party!” Bass was all righteous indignation. Miles felt his own face twisting into a frown.

“Emily Wilson sounds like a bitch.”

“Exactly!” Bass threw his hands up in exasperation. “We can’t let her win.”

“Damn right we can’t. Where’s the runt?”

“I set her up printing out the maps.” Bass said over his shoulder as they walked back up the stairs. Miles paused momentarily.

“Maps?”

“Of the neighborhoods around here. I found a map that tells you the average income and age of the people living in the neighborhood. I figure we hit up some rich grandmas and we’ll have this in the bag.”

“Bass…” Miles’s voice held a warning tone and Bass’s face clearly spelled out his worry that Miles was going to make fun of him for how invested he was getting. “How hard do you think it’d be to steal another little girl so we can divide and conquer?”

  


“Alright, kid, go knock.” Miles commanded. It was their first house and Charlie was clinging to his leg. “You’re the Girl Scout here.” Charlie whispered something into his pants leg and Miles took a breath to stay patient. “What?”

“Scary.” She repeated, though she glared up at him as she said it. He loved that little girl’s fire.

“Scary?” Bass echoed, bringing up the rear and consulting the map—the map that was color-coded and looked like something they’d find in a tactical briefing. “Charlie, we got a widowed sixty-year-old woman in there with an inheritance of over a million dollars and grandkids in California. She’s going to buy a thousand boxes of cookies.”

After a bit more coaxing, Charlie walked up to the door, but not without firmly taking hold of a hand from both men. Clearly this was to be a group endeavor.

“Well, hello, there.” The elderly woman was hooked on Charlie the second she opened the door. Bass helped, too, with his toothy grin and fawning over the woman’s embroidered cat pillows on the front porch swing. Miles mostly just tried to stay quiet and not look angry. They left four boxes of Thin Mints later.

“Should we feel bad?” Miles asked a few houses later. They’d sold over twenty boxes of cookies in under an hour, mostly to little old ladies. “I mean, we’re kind of exploiting them. And I doubt any of them are going to eat all these cookies.”

“Miles.” Bass put both hands on his best friend’s shoulders so they could look square into one another’s eyes. “These women are lonely. They get to see a cute kid and a stud. And they’ll get to see us again when we come back to deliver the cookies. It’s perfect.”

“Two studs.” Miles corrected. Bass smirked.

“Yeah. Sure, Miles. Two.” He rolled his eyes and Miles was going to mutter his opinions on Bass at that particular moment but stopped when he caught sight of Charlie going up to a house unassisted. He punched Bass’s shoulder and pointed. Charlie glanced back at them nervously and they both excitedly gave her goofy thumbs-ups and grins. She preened a little under the praise and steeled herself to give her sales pitch to the next unsuspecting victim.

Normally when Miles and Bass had to share a bed, they grappled over the lion’s share of the covers. Bass always stole the covers in the middle of the night, so Miles tried to take an unequal amount before falling asleep as a preemptive strike, but Bass declared this Utterly Unethical and refused to yield. Tonight, however, Miles acquiesced when Bass glared and ripped the covers back to his side. Bass looked a little surprised and then apprehensive as he noticed the look in Miles’s eyes that said Miles was going to attempt to talk _feelings_.

“You’re pretty into this cookie thing.” Miles said in a would-be casual voice. Bass rolled his eyes up to stare at the ceiling.

“Yeah?”

“Bass. Come on.” Miles was propped up on one elbow, all earnest intensity at the side of Bass’s face, and Bass rolled his eyes again. Miles knew Bass was almost powerless to rebuff him when he took initiative to discuss emotion, because he so rarely did.

“Sounds like you already know what’s up.” Bass refused to meet Miles’s knowing look.

“Cynthia and Angela were both Girl Scouts.” Miles pointed out.

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I seem to remember helping them sell cookies.” Miles’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, the voice he reserved for Charlie and Danny. He only used that voice on Bass when he was discussing Bass’s family. Part of Bass absolutely hated it, but he tolerated it because it was Miles and it wasn’t pity, it was understanding. Bass blew out a breath.

“So? Is it a crime to want to help Charlie win because it makes me think of my sisters? Who, by the way, never won no damn pool party.” He’d started off sounding tough but his voice had almost completely petered out by the end. He slipped an arm behind his head and smiled a little wistfully.

“Charlie would’ve been a good business partner for Angie. She hated selling cookies because she had to go talk to people and you know how shy she is. And the two of them together? They could move so many Samoas.” Bass still sometimes fell into present-tense when talking about his family, and Miles never pointed it out. He knew Bass realized it every time and didn’t need a reminder of any kind. Miles stared at his best friend for a minute longer before speaking.

“It would’ve been fun to see them all together.” He said quietly. Bass chuckled a little, the strangled kind when he was on the verge of tears.

“Yeah. Cynthia would be so bossy with Charlie and Danny.”

“Cynthia’s bossy to everyone.” Miles groused. Bass laughed for real this time.

“So bossy.” He swiped a hand over his eyes, just once. He didn’t wake up crying anymore, except maybe a few times a year, and he was getting better at remembering happy memories instead of focusing on the loss. Spending time with Charlie and Danny helped—Charlie running and jumping into his arms when she saw him, Danny mastering the name _Uncle Bass_ , were soothing balms to his heart.

“This isn’t about Cynthia and Angela, though,” Bass said, voice back to his usual bravado. “It’s about Charlie winning and beating that damn Emily Wilson.”

“Little bitch.” Miles growled good-naturedly. They both laughed quietly, feeling a little guilty for repeatedly calling a seven-year-old a bitch. But hey, that’s what a person got when they were rude to a Matheson.

All in all, they sold over three hundred boxes of cookies, with a little help from Rachel’s parents buying a ton and getting anyone who went into Gene’s medical practice to buy some, too. Gene wasn't worried about looking professional when he could get his granddaughter a pool party. They beat that damn Emily Wilson by fifty-three boxes. Miles and Bass may have been more excited than Charlie. They were still on leave when Charlie’s troop leader announced the winner, and they whooped and hollered louder than Rachel or Ben, prompting little Danny to giggle from his perch on Miles’s shoulders and pull his hair.

“That’s that damn Emily Wilson.” Ben murmured out of the side of his mouth accusingly as they watched Charlie smile at a little brunette with bows in her perfect ringlets. The four adults were standing in a line with their arms crossed as they watched the two girls talk, Miles not joining the folded-arms club because he was keeping a hold on Danny.

“Ugh.” Bass said.

“I know.” Rachel agreed. “She’s the worst. Her mom’s a cheater.”

“The pool party’s going to be so fun!” Charlie squealed as she ran over to her family.

“Who are you going to invite?” Rachel asked as she took the handful of papers Charlie was thrusting at her.

“I want everyone to come. I said the whole troop was invited.”

“Even Emily?” Miles blurted. After all their hard work to beat her?

“Yeah.” Charlie shrugged. “It hurt my feelings when she said she wasn’t going to invite me, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings like that. It’s mean.”

She skipped off to rejoin the girls in her troop while her parents and uncles watched, all feeling a little chastised.

“Wow.” Bass said. “That’s a hell of a kid.”

“We are such good parents.” Rachel told Ben smugly. They high-fived playfully and Miles rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to chime in and even pretend he had anything to do with that, because her uncle’s influence was certainly _not_ where Charlie got her tender heart. After a minute, Emily Wilson and her mom left, her curls bouncing and an irritatingly haughty look adorning her face. They watched her go quietly.

“That damn Emily Wilson.” Miles muttered.

“Such a little bitch.” Bass added.

They didn’t get invited to many troop meetings after that.

**Author's Note:**

> It's so fluffy, and there is no family tension, because it's fun. (Obviously I'm not advocating calling anyone, and especially not a kid, a bitch, but the boys aren't always exactly feminists.)


End file.
